My Own Little New York City Dream

When I was in college my girlfriends would often talk of the future and all the dreams they had for themselves. Marriage and babies would usually become the common denominator during these conversations. I would give them a polite nod as they gushed about marrying their long-time boyfriends. But I knew all along their dreams had little to do with my own.

My dream was different. It was bigger. It was better. Marriage and some ankle biters? How very ordinary. Surely I can accomplish more than procreation!

Come graduation day I would pack my bags and move to New York City. To become a writer at a fashion magazine, of course. And to live in a 300 square foot apartment with two other people, I’m sure. I was going to make it on my own, a la, Mary Tyler Moore {and yes, I often pictured myself tossing a cute beret into the air}.

Armed with a journalism degree from a college no one outside of western Missouri would ever recognize I would wave bye bye to the midwest without a second thought. No turning back.

And my awesome plan would have worked too . . . had I not met the man of my dreams during my last semester of college.

It was right after that terrifying and life-changing event on September 11, 2001. I knew I had found my one and only. I struggled a bit before graduation. Would I still leave and follow my big city dreams? Or would I break down the barrier that I had created and let love in?

As a graduation present, my beau of only three months took me to New Orleans where he professed his love for me for the first time.

All of a sudden I realized that I was looking at the real dream. A life companion. My future husband. And the future father of my children. I had thought about getting married and becoming a mother before. But I never really made that a part of my dream because I didn’t believe that anyone would ever truly love me enough to want to spend the rest of their life with me. Believe me, it’s a lot of work loving someone who suffers from depressive episodes. But he did love me enough. Five years later we were married.

Ten days before our second wedding anniversary our first son, Landon Neil, was born. My love for him was instantaneous. I didn’t have to wait for those I-will-die-for-you feelings. I felt that love deep within my being from the get go.

And someone else was born at the same time . . . a new mother. Funny how I never knew there was something missing until he was in my arms. It seems that this is how all my dreams have been born. I didn’t really ever focus on them. I was never the girl who said, “I can’t wait to be a mom!” But God had placed my husband and my boys in my heart long before I ever knew that being a mother is what would bring me the most joy.

To this day, I still have yet to visit New York City. Call me crazy, but compared to raising two beautiful children, it just seems so small now.

I’m sure I’ll get there someday. But right now I’m living in my own little New York City dream. Just like my dream in college, my life with two under two is exciting, exhilarating, exhausting, expensive and most of all fulfilling.